Jane? Who? Me? Runner?

So today's form of athletic 'inspiration' came from Active.com's facebook page: "You must begin to think of yourself as ... the person you want to be." - David Viscott.

I read this as on a December day that feels more like March.  Yet, unlike March, there's no wind to bring down the temp.  The sun is hidden behind a cooling veil of clouds, which helps keep the temperature a perfect running 49 degrees.  Mother Nature has lined up everything for the perfect running day. 

I walked outside to get the mail, mentally tallying everything that will make today the best day back to running (after some healing time for a tendon flair).  While I walk out to the mailbox, my zealous mind has already created the perfect run: I've already ran 6 miles along a tree lined single track trail.  My dogs following.  I could feel their fur rub against my calf, their tongues lopping to the side, their eyes focused ahead anticipating the next turn of the trail.  It was perfect!  As I walk back from the mailbox, I had convinced myself that this mental trail run surely did happen.  I was so close, close to the elusive "Runner's High". 

Oh, that Runner's High is magnificent! I turn into Super Woman.  I become everything my mind says I am.  I'm invincible, I can leap over buildings (or logs) in a single bound, I run faster then Paula Radcliffe, (a 2:15 marathoner).  No mountain can make me huff as I run up it.   The runner's high is like the musician Muse; elusive, coming and going, just out of reach, sometimes allowing me to catch it - just for a moment - never staying long enough. 

I leap up the front steps, still grasping for the coat tails of Jane (that's what I'll call her - Jane, my Runner's High).  When suddenly I feel the churning reminder of an ankle not yet ready for running.  I stop at the top of the stairs (which is only 3 steps), and watch Jane - as she keeps running, taunting me, haunting me until the day I can catch her.

So here I sit, waiting for Pilate's to start, mourning the loss of my perfect December run and my elusive Jane.  Wondering if this still makes me a runner?    

My ankle had been feeling great, or so I thought...